


Lake Effect

by maximumsuckage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depowered Lucifer, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Innocent Jack Kline, Loneliness, Protective Lucifer, Snow, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 11:59:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13247790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maximumsuckage/pseuds/maximumsuckage
Summary: Jack hides from everybody he cares about.  Lucifer longs for his son, but is trapped in a cell by Asmodeus.Alternate Summary: Jack experiences his first snow.





	Lake Effect

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt from archangelgabriellives on tumblr: Lucifer making it snow

He had a son.

He had fathered a child.

He was a dad.

It was a reality that Lucifer couldn’t grasp.  He was used to being considered a father- the father of sin, the father of demons- but this was different.  He had impregnated a human woman, and she had conceived a child- a child overflowing with Lucifer’s grace, a child who could carry on the bloodline of Satan or reignite the light that was Lucifer. 

He was a father, and he had never even met his son. 

The stone wall of the cell was uncomfortably warm against his back as he leaned against it, looking up at the darkness of the ceiling.  Where was the boy now, while he languished in this cell like some pathetic pet?  Was he alive?  Lucifer had not been able to sense him- he could be dead, though Lucifer was certain he would have felt the death. 

But would he?  There was no bond between them- Castiel had stolen that honor, while Lucifer had been chained under Crowley’s command.  While Lucifer remained entrapped, over and over, the boy was growing up.

The boy Jack.  Castiel had said his name was Jack.

“Jack,” he murmured under his breath, eyes still fixed, unseeing on the ceiling.  “Jacky.  Jack- my boy.  My son, Jack…”

“Hey!”

The bars rattled as a demon slammed a knife against them.  “Shut up, Satan,” she snapped, teeth bared, eyes black in a small human face.  “Don’t be pulling any magic crap here!”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow.  He could taste her fear, even when his powers were dampened by the cell.  She was nothing but a pawn, a nameless guard.  He turned away from her, turning his gaze to the back wall.  Manacles hung a few feet above the ground.  The remnants of a hand still dangled from one, the bony fingers curled around the metal loop.  Jagged, snapped ends of the radius and ulna clicked against the stone wall with every draft of air. 

The demon smacked her blade against the bars again, growling deep in her chest, and then resumed her pacing outside the cage. 

Lucifer wondered what Jack’s grace looked like.  Pure, probably.  Pure like fresh fallen snow under the radiance of the sun.  He could imagine it, when he closed his eyes.  Glittering crystals of grace, swirling upwards in the lightest breeze-

It was probably good that Lucifer hadn’t met him yet.  His own grace was scarred, warped, twisted by the Mark of Cain and the tortures of the Cage and the more recent tortures by Michael… He couldn’t change.  Lucifer, the light bearer, had been destroyed long ago, and only Satan, father of sin, remained.  There was nothing anybody could do about that.  But maybe Jack, the untainted fledgling, could-

“Show me your face!”

The bars shook again, and Lucifer lazily looked over at the guard.  “What could you possibly want, little abomination?”

“You look away, you can talk to cast spells without me knowing,” the demon snapped.  “Face me, or we’re chaining you up.”

He let out a laugh.  “Hey, I’d be cool with that.  Get some entertainment up in this cell.”

She sneered at him.  “Don’t you wish.”

“Maybe just a little.  Just got myself an education on all the fun bonus features in these human bodies.”  He raised an eyebrow, slowly raking his eyes down the demon’s meat suit, considering the curves and edges.  “Did you know you can use your mouth to-”

“Shut up!”  The demon lurched backwards, face twisted in disgust.  “Don’t you dare suggest that I would copulate with archangel filth!  I may be damned, but I still have my honor.”

“Hmm.  Fine.”  Lucifer leaned back, closing his eyes again.  “Lemme know if you get bored standing guard.”

He actually felt a bit of real disappointment that the guard rejected his half joking proposition.  There were no distractions now, from his longing for the fledgling. 

That child-angel, alone in the endless cycles of chaos that were the world.  Lucifer ached to reach out, to touch the unblemished grace that was his baby.  It ached, deep in his chest, that he couldn’t sense the boy.  He knew Jack was out there, and he knew Jack needed help, but he was trapped in this cage, unable to do anything but strain his grace against the invisible bonds, to hopelessly pray that Jack could somehow, impossibly feel the longing of his father. 

*~*~*

To the untrained eye, he was nothing more than a homeless kid sitting in the woods, trying to catch a few minutes of sleep before he had to keep moving.  His jeans were ripped in the knees and his jacket was stained and there was blood and dirt under his fingernails.  Jack had been on the run a few days now, keeping hidden, shielding his grace from outside eyes, and it was wearing on him. 

He was alone.

People had already died because of him.  He had killed somebody, an innocent man with a family.  His presence was a danger, and tears burned behind his eyes whenever he remembered the image of the pool of blood slowly spreading outwards from the smashed skull…

Despite the appearance of sleep, Jack was not sleeping.  He tugged his jacket closer around his shoulders, pulling his knees up to his chest.  His grace prevented the cold from harming him, but he still felt it, leeching the heat from his fingertips, reminding him how alone he really was. 

His only hope was the rumor he’d read in an old book, about the dreamwalkers.  Maybe if he could do that, if he could get Sam’s mother back, then he could prove to himself that he had enough control…

But he was so far from finding a single dreamwalker, and he was starting to think it was a myth.  The burning against his eyes was growing now, and with nobody around, he let the tears fall, burying his face in his knees.  His shoulders shook as he hugged himself.  He shouldn’t have been born.  He was nothing more than a mistake, an abomination against all that was good and holy.

Something feather-light brushed his cheek. 

Jack looked up sharply, his breath hitching, but he was still alone in the woods.  But something had changed- the cold in the air had taken on a sharper sense, and clouds had rolled in overhead, blocking out the stars. 

Another snowflake drifted down from the heavens, dodging branches to rest on Jack’s hand.  He studied the tangle of crystals for a moment before they melted, vanishing forever. 

Another flake fell, and another, and the moon broke through the clouds to throw a silvery light over the forest.  Snowflakes glittered and spun in the night, caught by little flurries of cold wind, and for a moment, Jack forgot his tears, standing and holding out his hands.  He was alone in the forest, alone in the world, and yet he was discovering this new thing.

“Snow,” he said, looking up at the sky.  The flakes were cold against his face, soft as feathers, and he laughed, spinning around and trying to catch them in his hands, only to watch them melt against the warmth of his skin.  On a whim, he opened his mouth, catching one on his tongue.  It tasted of the sky.

And he was still alone, but suddenly he didn’t feel alone.  The snow whirled about him, thicker and faster, picking up in whorls every time he moved his wings, and he wasn’t alone. 

In the morning, he would wonder about the presence in the snow, the sense of safety and family he had felt.  But in the moment, he felt only peace.


End file.
